July 1st, 2012
by bookwormally
Summary: Canada's 145th birthday. What does the Nation in question do on his day? Canada centric with a bit of FACE family goodness.


I already posted this on my tumblr, but thought I would share it here. It's a week late but I was busy and without internet!

Anyway I don't own Hetalia. Enjoy!

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Night still hung heavy around the trees, time frozen as light began to fight the dark and bring the dawn. Nothing much stirred in the forest, the nocturnals already bedded down while it was not yet time for the creatures of the day to rise.

Through the dark pillars of the old trunks there a bit of white wending its way. Fog lay low to the ground and muted already soft footsteps. Threading through the forest with the same familiarity of walking down the hall at home, the gleam of white resolved itself into a tall, lithe shape.

The trees and brush grew thinner and the forest ended upon an outlook, an edge that dropped into the cold waters of the Atlantic. The faintest cracks in the dark were visible on the horizon. One deliberate step and another until a young man stood upon the precipice. The light continued its battle in the east until the first rays of color lit the sky.

Warming his face along with the edges of the land, sunrise lit wavy blond hair and danced along the frames of his glasses. A long deep breath in and violet eyes slid open. The sun broke the horizon and Canada smiled at the beginning of a new day, _his_ day. July 1st, 2012. One hundred and forty-five years.

Time flowed so differently for a Nation as compared to their people. And yet because of their people much could be accomplished in what was an eye blink to beings such as they. Canada laughed slightly to himself as he brushed his errant curl aside and the heavy thoughts with it. _I wonder if others get as philosophical as I do on my birthday. Maybe Al…_

Laughing slightly again at the thought of the brash American pondering time and the truth of being a Nation, Canada breathed in the freshness that was the early morning on the edge of land and sea. As if in answer to his thoughts his phone played the opening notes of his anthem. "Hello?" The cheerful and surprisingly awake sound of his brother and southern neighbor filled his ear. "Good morning and happy birthday Mattie!"

Canada blinked in surprise. "Thanks Al, but it's like six in the morning on a Sunday no less. What are you doing up?" A laugh rang through the phone. "I'm up and about to go for a run. I hoped you would be awake, so I could be the first to wish you a good day!" Canada's own soft laugh came again. "Well congratulations, you did it. I got up early to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic."

Waiting for the joke at his sentimentality, Canada was pleasantly surprised to have America, voice softer, agree. "It's a great way to start a birthday. Well, I'm headed out so have a good one and I'll see you later Mattie!" "See you Al."

Quiet reined again on the cliff side. The sun was well and truly rising now. Time to head back and get ready to face the day. Parties and celebrations would carry Canada across his lands. He always started with the sunrise of the east and ended with the sunset of the west. Being a Nation did have its perks when traveling one's own land after all.

The day was a happy blur of festivity, Canada passing from one party to the next, mimicking the arc of the sun across the sky. In the end, the close of the day matched the dawn. A view of the Pacific clear and shining as the sun neared the horizon.

While not known for parties quite like America's, Canada always enjoyed gathering with his people. Of course the party he had just slipped away from was all his friends and family. But he had his tradition so he had come to watch the sunset in peace.

Which of course meant someone rustling their way through the bushes to find him. "Ah Canada mon cher, there you are. I wondered where you slipped off to." France, dressed impeccably as usual with one graceful hand supporting a wine glass, strolled over to take the spot next to him. "The party back there is for you and yet here I find you alone. Waiting for someone?" The exaggerated wink that followed was the sure sign of a joke, but Canada sighed all the same.

"I'll be back in a moment, but well first…" He gestured at the view, hard put to explain his reasoning, but knowing France would understand all the same. It was tradition. _And speaking of tradition…_ "Here they are!" America and England emerged from the trees. His brother made a face at him and said, "Thanks for waiting. I told you to come get me before you took off."

Canada shrugged. "You looked busy," he replied causing America to thawp him in the back of the head. "Idiot, like I would miss this. It's tradition! And for once everyone is here!" Plopping down on Canada's other side America leaned back on his hands. Silence rang clear as each of the four Nations, lost in their own thoughts, took in the bright colors of the dying light.

With only the thinnest line of sunlight left, America bumped Canada with a shoulder. At his inquiring glance, his brother smiled softly. "Happy birthday bro." France held his wine glass aloft. "To Canada. To Mathieu." England smiled and held his own drink high, America following suit. "To Matthew!" With a clink and a cheer the sun disappeared and night was upon them.

"Ah my little Mathieu is getting so old!" With a theatrical sigh France threw his arms around the younger blond. Momentarily there was a slight squeak at a wandering hand and England's arm came around France's throat. "Off Frog. Now. Keep your slimy mitts off of Matthew." Winking lavishly despite the steady decrease in oxygen France turned to face him. "Jealous Angleterre~?"

Shrieking his displeasure England released him and began to chase France back towards the party, America following behind with a laugh. Canada paused once more to look at the sky.

The first star was a bright point in the rapidly spreading dark velvet of the night. Behind rose the sounds of life, family, friends, and his people, but for a moment Canada stood alone again in the quiet.

With a smile, violet irises hidden behind closed lids, he took a deep breath of the summer evening. Then Canada turned and slipped back between the trees.

July 1st, 2012. 145 years.


End file.
